


Summer wardrobe

by lemony_sneaker



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Clothes Shopping, F/F, Fluff, croma week 2018, crona and maka being super cute, maaaaybe it gets a little bit spicy but honestly not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemony_sneaker/pseuds/lemony_sneaker
Summary: With summer fast approaching Death City, Maka convinces Crona into shopping for a new wardrobe, not wanting them to get heat stroke.





	Summer wardrobe

**Author's Note:**

> this was my submission for croma week 2018 on Tumblr and its just a big bit of fluff. I hope you enjoy!

Crona watches their girlfriend sift through the colorful skirts on the thrift store’s clothes rack. Maka pulls out a long, lightweight green shirt and considers it for a short moment before handing it to them, adding to the large mound of clothes in their arms.

“That should be enough for now. Why don’t you try on what we’ve got and see what you like?” she asks. Summer is approaching soon, and with Death City located in the desert, Crona will need some cooler clothes to avoid heatstroke. Crona nods despite being slightly uncomfortable with the idea of undressing in public, even in a locked stall. But Maka assured them that no one will walk in on them, and that she would stop anyone who tries.

They aren't used to wearing so many colors. The pinks and greens and reds and blues are so different from their usual long black robe. But summer is approaching fast, and with Death City located in the desert, they’ll need some cooler clothes, according to Maka. Ignoring their discomfort, the enter a dressing room stall and change quickly, wanting to be exposed for as little time as possible in such a public place, even with Maka’s assurances that no one will walk in on them.

They slip on two random pieces of clothing from the pile: a pink, short sleeve polo shirt and a powder blue knee-length skirt. The sword meister studies their reflection in the mirror, feeling critical and self-conscious of the bright clothes; the bags under their eyes look darker in contrast, and their skin paler. Their hair is a different, duller pink than the shirt and it looks like they unsuccessfully tried to match it. They must be taking too long because Maka’s voice calls to them, “everything alright in there? Do you need any help?”

“N-no, I’m coming out now,” they call back. With a final glance in the mirror and a sigh, they open the door and leave the small room. As soon as Maka spots them, she steps in close and starts to smooth their shirt, her hands lingering on their shoulders as her eyes inspect the rest of them. The weight on their shoulders eases Crona’s apprehension and calms their nerves. Maka's touch has always been good for that somewhy.

“Oh my Death, you look so pretty!” They blush as she continues, eyes drifting toward the floor. “I especially like the skirt. Blue is definitely your colour; it brings out your eyes. And the cut accentuates how slender you are. I think this one is a keeper, how about you?” Smiling bashfully at her compliments, Crona dips their head, trying in vain to hide behind their bangs; due to their close proximity, Maka can still see their face, small smile and all.

Maka is always so good about assuaging their insecurities, slowly transforming how they see their own body. Rather than awkward, lanky legs and arms, Maka sees slender, graceful limbs. Rather than hollow cheeks and pitted eyes, Maka sees sharp cheekbones and a powerful facial structure. Rather than sickly pallor, she sees porcelain skin. If they couldn't see the truth and love in her eyes, they'd think she was just making stuff up to make them feel better. 

“I like the skirt too, but, um, not the shirt.”

“That’s okay. How about you try on the white shorts and green top next?, and I’ll hold onto the clothes you like,” Maka suggests, and Crona returns to the dressing room, the skirt and polo soon leaving their body. They hang them across the top of the door and dress quickly in the suggested outfit. When they're fully dressed again, they blanch at how short the shorts are, extending barely halfway down their thighs, showing off the majority of their legs: scars and all. They had never worn anything so revealing before and it makes them wish they had protested going clothes shopping more. For a brief moment, they consider getting rid of the shorts immediately, but, since Maka specifically requested this outfit, they decide to at least show it to her.

At least the top is more modest, they think. Its sleeves hang loose off their shoulders and flow all the way down their arms before scrunching around their wrists with elastic bands in the seams. With a loose collar that rests on their shoulders, exposing the tops of their collarbones, and a body decorated by rhinestone flowers, the light material hugs their body just tight enough to show the dip of their waist. They feel visibly topheavy, like they have too little material on their lower body to support their top.

Full of doubt and self-consciousness, they timidly crack the door open and peek into the waiting room. Maka looks up from a magazine, one of many spread across a short table in the small lounge and smiles at them encouragingly. Reassured, they step fully out of the fitting room before they can lose their nerve. Appraising the outfit, Maka scans their body and, when her eyes meet their bare legs, her smile falls, replaced by a strange look.

Crona worries that something is wrong, that they shouldn’t have tried on so short of shorts, that their legs are somehow wrong and hideous and should be covered, but when Maka's tongue peeks out and wets her lips, Crona recognizes her expression. It’s an expression they have seen only a couple times since they had started dating, and it was usually followed by a deep kiss. Their worry drains away, replaced by a nervous, pleasurable warmth in their belly. They wonder if she’ll do anything even though they’re in public, and Crona isn’t sure whether they would be okay with it or not. Maka’s eyes trail over their legs for a moment longer before she apparently realized the situation and looks away, blinking rapidly.

“That, um, that looks good, Crona,” she says with a light pink blush coloring her cheeks. She looks so cute when flustered that Crona can’t help but want to tease her. So, in a rare moment of boldness, they turn around and ask,

“What about the back? I couldn’t get a good look in the dressing room.” After a beat, they peek over their shoulder with equal parts excitement and nervousness. Maka’s blush deepened considerably to a scarlet red that barely brushes her neck, her wide eyes glued to their butt, mouth slightly gaping. Crona faces forward again as they hide a sly smile and light gray blush of their own. Who knew clothes shopping could be so much fun? Crona turns back around to Maka; her face is burning as she stares pointedly at the wall to her left.

“What do you think? Should I get them?” they ask, already having decided to purchase the shorts. Anything that can make Maka look at them like that and turn such a color is a must-have for their wardrobe, even if they won't wear it outside much. The scythe meister says yes and sends Crona back into the changing room to try on the next outfit.

Crona models summer clothes for their girlfriend for nearly an hour until Maka decides that they’ve picked out enough outfits to last the summer. The pair purchases the clothes- a variety of skirts, shorts, tops, and hats- before leaving for home, the little apartment they share with Soul and Blair.


End file.
